


Denial ain't just a river in Egypt

by jason_todds



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-31
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-27 19:17:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1719635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jason_todds/pseuds/jason_todds
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is in love with his best friend. Who just so happens to be an angel with a weird fixation on trench coats and a love for burgers that borders on obsession. </p><p>Dean is utterly fucked.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Denial ain't just a river in Egypt

**Author's Note:**

  * For [one of the literal best people ever aka i_am_sams_lost_shoe](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=one+of+the+literal+best+people+ever+aka++i_am_sams_lost_shoe).



> I wrote this for a friend (thats you, Oli!) in like half an hour  
> It was meant to be short and fluffy but it kinda got away from me  
> anyway enjoy

_He was in the bunker, really not that surprising if he thought about it. What was surprising was that Cas was sitting beside him, close enough that their knees knocked against each other when they shifted. Dean cast a glance towards the angel, eyes flickering over his unruly hair, his chapped lips and his ever-present stubble._

_His hands itched to touch him._

_He found himself shifting infinitesimally closer._

_Cas looked at him, and Dean froze. He was excruciatingly aware of how his hands hovered between them, and of how his leg was pressed against Cas’s inch for inch._

_Cas’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s lips._

_Time seemed to still, tension crackling between them like electricity._

_Cas’s mouth slackened, and Dean surged forward.His hands threading themselves into Cas’s hair and tightening, slanting his head to the side so that their mouths would fit together better._

_The first kiss was surprisingly chaste, just lips pressed together._

_Dean pulled back, fingers still pushed through Cas’ hair._

_For a moment, they just looked. Foreheads resting against each other. Breathes puffing against mouths._

_And then Cas smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners and the lines of his body softened against Dean._

_He pressed a hand against Deans neck, blunt nails scraping through the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Dean” he said simply._

_Dean pressed his mouth to Cas’s again. A bolt of heat shivered down his spine when he felt his lips part._

_“Cas” he breathed. His fingers tightened and he pulled the angel closer, his eyes fluttering closed as he traced the curve of Cas’s lips with his tongue. “Cas, I—“_

 

_**“We’re no strangers to love** _

_**You know the rules and so do I** _

_**A full commitments what I’m thinking** _

_**You wouldn’t get this from any other guy** _

_**I just wanna tell you how I’m feeling** _

_**Gotta make you understand** _

_**Never gonna give you up** _

_**Never gonna let you down** _

_**Never gonna run around and desert you** _

_**Never gonna make you cry** _

_**Never gonna say goodbye** _

_**Never gonna tell a lie and— “** _

Dean slammed off the alarm and let his head fall with a muffled thump back onto his pillow.

He slowly and reluctantly pushed himself up and scrubbed his hands through his hair.

A frown twisted his lips as he remembered his dream, had he really had that kind of dream about Cas? Surely not, Cas was an angel. A dorky angel with a weird fixation on trench coats. And a love for burgers that bordered on obsession.

He was also a dude, but Dean had long ago come to terms with liking dudes just as much as chicks. He’d never told dad, but that was probably for the best. John had never been the accepting type. And he’d never cut Dean much slack. So he’d stuck to chasing skirts, and ignoring that little voice in his head, the one that sounded suspiciously like Sam, that told him that liking guys was normal, was fine. He knew it was.

The problem was that John didn’t.

But John was gone. And Cas was here. And Dean really, really, really didn’t need to develop a crush on his best friend. Who happened to be an angel.

Dean groaned and rubbed a hand over his face.

This was going to a shitty day. He could feel it.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

 

Dean stomped into the bunker, dripping wet and pissed off.

Freakin’ lake monsters.

Seriously. Lake monsters. What the fuck.

He and Sam had set off to investigate people going missing in a nearby town, supposedly they were alligator attacks but. Really? there was no way Dean’s life was going to be in anyway that easy.

So of course, Lake monsters. With tentacles. Dean had seen enough porn to know where that was going. But he had tried his very best not to picture that particular scenario. He hadn't been successful but it was the thought that counted.

“Havin’ a shower, be out in a bit” he called over his shoulder.

“Don’t use all the hot water this time” Sam replied, and Dean could actually picture the exact bitch face he was directing at him. Good ol’ number 27.

“No promises, Sammy”

He couldn’t hear Sam’s outraged splutter of inarticulate rage, but he could sure as hell imagine it.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________ 

Dean tilted his head back and let the water stream over his face.

There was nothing quite like a hot shower after beating the shit outta weird ass lake monsters.

He let out a sigh as the muscles in his back and shoulders loosened under the onslaught.

He reached for the soap began to wash the remnants of the lake off his skin.

He tried to ignore the way his skin felt too tight, and the way his finger itched to wrap around a certain angels blue tie and yank.

He tried to ignore the way his every thought twisted back on itself, always leading to Cas.

He tried not to think of messy black hair, or eyes bluer than anything he’d ever seen.

He tried to ignore the heat that shivered over his skin when he imagined Cas’s hands skimming over his ribs, his shoulders, his body.

He was about to give in, Dean had never really been one for denying himself pleasure, when someone banged on the door. “Dean! you’ve been in there for ages, there had better be some damn hot water left when i get in there”

_For fucks sake, Sam, could your timing be any worse?_

“Yeah, okay i’m getting out now, you big baby” Dean could almost hear Sam rolling his eyes.

“You’re such a jerk” Sam exclaimed, and Dean felt a start of surprise that he’s let that particular insult slip

“Bitch”

This time, he could picture Sam’s smile.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Dean was pulling a change of clothes out of his dresser when he heard a familiar rustle of wings.

He glanced over his shoulder and sure enough, Cas was standing there.

He had an odd flush across his cheekbones, and was looking anywhere that wasn't Dean.

“You ever heard of knocking, Cas?”

The angel seemed flustered, “I— I apologise, I will wait for you outside” he turned quickly towards the door and left the room before he could reply.

Dean stood for a moment, then shrugged and pulled on his clothes.

He left his towel tossed unceremoniously tossed over his bed and went to find Cas.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________\

Cas was sitting at the table, his hands folded in his lap.

He looked up when Dean entered and spoke “I’m sorry I haven't visited for a while, I’ve had my work cut out for me in Heaven”

Dean scowled, “Surely you coulda taken some time outta you're busy schedule to drop by, I’ve been prayin’ to you Cas. Every day”

Cas frowned at him. “I am not entirely sure that telling me to ‘Get my feathery ass down here’ counts as a prayer, Dean”

Dean crossed his arms and looked away from the angel. “You still coulda answered”

Cas sighed, “I run Heaven, Dean, do you realize how large a job that is?”

Dean didn't answer, he just folded his arms tighter.

Cas stood and walked towards him, “I don’t want to argue” he said, before his eyes flicked down to Dean’s arms. “What are those?” Cas’s voice gained a thunderous edge as he reached out and wrapped his fingers around Dean’s wrist, yanking his arm towards him. “Dean, how did you get these bruises?” Cas traced the marks with his free hand, seemingly unaware that he was standing almost chest to chest with Dean.

“I— a hunt. I got them on a hunt” Dean tried to pull his wrist out of Cas’s grip, but the angel was immovable.

Cas looked up, and pressed the hand that had been tracing Dean’s injuries against his cheek. A strange prickling sensation flooded through Dean’s body, followed by an almost unbearable heat in his wounds. He looked towards where the bruises had been wrapped around his arm, and there was nothing there but faintly freckled skin.

Cas still didn’t let go. “You said that you prayed to me, but you also dreamt of me” he whispered, face inches from Deans.

“How the hell did you know that?” Dean felt rage and humiliation curl inside his chest, and heat rush into his cheeks. “I swear to god Cas if you've been in my head—“ Before Dean could finish, Cas cut him off.

“You said my name in your sleep, I could not help but see”

Dean’s face felt hot. He tried to pull away but Cas still wouldn’t let go. The angel moved his hand from Dean’s cheek so that it curled partway around his neck, thumb stroking his jaw.

“Dean” he murmured, his voice impossibly soft. And before he knew what he was doing, Dean had his fingers curled in Cas’s coat, pulling him closer. He rested his forehead against the angels for a brief moment before slanting his head and pressing his mouth to Castiel’s chapped lips. Cas responded almost violently. His hands tightened where they were resting against Dean’s skin, and he kissed him with an almost alarming hunger.

One of his hands pressed against the base of Dean’s skull, and the other slid up from where it had been holding his wrist and aligned itself with the handprint on his shoulder.

Dean groaned and licked along the seam of Cas’s mouth, they parted and Dean slid his tongue into Cas’s mouth.

They curled into each other, and Dean wondered how it had taken him so long. This; standing with Cas, talking with Cas, laughing and smiling and being happy with Cas, kissing Cas. This was right. It would be difficult. But the feeling of belonging that came with it was so far beyond worth it. Castiel was so far beyond worth it that there were no words that could accurately describe it.

Dean wondered vaguely when he had grown lady parts, because seriously, there were some really freakin’ soppy thoughts running through his head. He felt more coming on. He also found it very difficult to care. After all, it was hard to maintain coherent thought when being thoroughly kissed by a self proclaimed Angel of the Lord.

So he thought; _fuck it_. And focused on the angel pressed up against him.

Eventually they pulled back, panting. Neither one let go of the other, so for a while they stood. Simply holding each other. Hands grasping at clothing and hair, foreheads tilted together and breathes shared.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but he fell silent, his tongue thick with the taste of ozone and rain. Castiel licked his lips, upon which lingered a taste of smoke and whiskey.

“I think that Heaven can wait for a while” he said, his voice full of gravel.

Dean grinned a wolves grin, “Damn right” and pulled Castiel towards the door, blue tie wrapped firmly around his hand. Cas followed willingly, his eyes crinkled at the corners.

Somehow they ended up curled up into each other in a bed, covers drawn over shoulders and tracing the stories etched into each others skin.

Clothes were discarded, and no words were spoken. Castiel mouthed along the freckles that dotted Dean’s skin a thousand times over, and traced the constellations he found in them.

Dean fitted his fingers between the hollows of Castiel’s ribs, and buried his face in the junction of his neck and shoulder.

They stayed together that night, and most of the next day. Eventually they stumbled out and Dean drank coffee straight from the pot and made Cas eat waffles smothered in maple syrup.

Sam took one look at them and threw his hands in the air, “Finally!” he exclaimed “I was beginning to think you’d be in denial forever!”

Dean smacked him upside the head, called him a bitch and that was that.

Dean Winchester finally found his happy ending. Of course, there were arguments and saving the world, monsters and nightmares and all manner of injuries.

But there was also making out with dorky angels, pie and family and home. Yeah, Dean Winchester found his happily ever after. He'd definitely taken his damn time about it.


End file.
